Thoughts

We tried to go camping this weekend. We planned for it, packed for it, got sidetracked one day thanks to a tornado watch, and finally arrived at 8am on Saturday, complete with a rented scooter for me to use... set up was a mess. The area mapped out for camping had turned into a horrible bog. It was a farming field that they used for growing corn. The site is a "farm venue" - they have goats and ducks, horses, a farmer's market out front. The owner is a guy about our age who visited around on his golf cart, greeting people and introducing us all to the white duck that had somehow adopted him. The duck's name is "Peter". They have huge shelters on site which they rent out for weddings and festivals, and they plant corn for the October Halloween season and run a haunted house there. It is a nice site and I hope the barony that rented it continues to do so but the gully-washer of rain on Friday so soaked the ground that the unharvested stalks and ears of corn were completely buried in the mud. You could see ears of Indian Corn buried in the ground we walked on. That worked out for those of us camping there - the ground was now relatively flat rather than hillocked. Our camping group was unable to reach our original spot thanks to so much sucking muck so we were placed in a new spot on higher ground. (The land agent took pity on me and my electric cart, I think. It couldn't possible be because I introduced him to Lego addiction.)

There was a couple set up next to where our camping "spot" (a very flexibly-shaped spot depending on who else was arriving to try to set up too) was and they came over to help us get situated, bless them. In the course of the day as we struggled to get everything arranged after positional changes, renegotiations, and confusion, one thing became painfully clear. We are not campers any longer. It took forever-long to get things set up. I was incapable of helping for more than ten minutes without becoming winded. My condition alarmed those around me even though they kindly did not remark on it. My hubby was working as if the air was comprised of molasses, he was just so tired and sore after the labor of loading the truck at home that he could barely move.

In the end, we got everyone set up except for ourselves. We decided to switch to day-tripping the event. Our pavilion went up to be a common gathering area and group kitchen. We visited, ate dinner, enjoyed conversation, and then Arni and I drove home. The trip is a little under two hours long - not bad, really. We were up again early on Sunday and hit Wegman's to purchase more beer for our in-camp buddies. Arni never got around to shooting any archery. He was too sore and tired to try. But he helped out at the field as a marshal and gopher and enjoyed visiting with friends. I did much the same in our camp spot after ascertaining that the cart was not powerful enough to drive through the muddy areas. On Sunday afternoon our campmates informed us that we were not to be returning on Monday morning to work on pack-out. They had already planned to help us load the chairs and tables and other equipment into our truck on Sunday night and would bring our lantern, pavilion, and any leftover beer to us after they packed up the camp themselves. We were amused that they'd done all that planning behind our backs. And I really appreciated it. Instead of getting up at 5am this morning I slept in until 10:30. Arni actually slept until noon. He really was exhausted. This afternoon we unloaded what was in the truck, washed the scooter I barely used (poor scooter - soggy farmland was not what it wanted to be on!) and we took it back, then greeted Arni's protégée who had returned from the event with our stuff. It wasn't until he was gone again that we opened our third cooler (TWO were full of beverages!) and learned that the camp had left one bottle of each beer type for Arni to enjoy at home. And they iced it down again in case he wanted them today.

Our helpful camp neighbors are new to the area, having come here from the kingdom of An Tir. It was lovely to learn that we had mutual friends - heralds, as a matter of fact. It was double-lovely to meet people who came from "home". We talked of Pacific Northwest things for a bit.

I painted a target for the archery shoot. It was 24x36" and was more of a lesson than a project. It'll be easier to try again later. I even want to make some more of them now that I know I can make the target overs without waiting on the target backs to be formed. It came back with Arni's protégée since it didn't have so many holes in it to be unusable for practise. There was a serious hunk of cardboard backing forming the body.

The realization that camping is too exhausting for me is hitting hard. Some of the effect I may be able to mitigate by getting up off my duff and becoming more physically active but the wear and tear on joints and muscles went deep and I fear that pain is going to be a constant whenever we are living out of doors. I think I should budget for a hotel room and a two-day packing process for us for Pennsic so it doesn't overtax us more than we can handle.

Our local friends who I introduced to the joys of boil-a-bag meals are converts. They'll be getting a FoodSaver sealer this week. She's making all sorts of plans for what she can use it for beyond just prepping for events.